


light my hands on fire and watch them burn

by shadowdance



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 12:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7103449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowdance/pseuds/shadowdance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ice and fire don't play well together, felicia learns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	light my hands on fire and watch them burn

**Author's Note:**

> major birthright spoilers, specially for chapter 17; i took some liberties with the dialogue since i don't want to copy and paste the whole thing. (i did get birthright) (i love it so much)  
> does this count as graphical violence because i don't know but i marked it to play safe

* * *

 

Fire burns. This is what Felicia learns as a child.

She is five and there is an open flame in the center of camp. She doesn’t really think much of it, but everyone in her tribe is approaching it wearily and it doesn’t really make a lot of sense, if she would’ve stopped and thought about it clearer; if there’s a flame in an ice tribe, it can’t be that bad? Right, yeah, sure.

It has to be remembered that she is a child; naïve and confused and curious.

She’s mesmerized by the pattern of the flames, how it shifts and crackles and emits sparks in the air. She hears her father say, _Felicia, be careful, don’t get too close,_ and she listens and hears her mouth say _Yes, Father. I will._

Flora says, “I’ll stand behind her,” and Felicia feels a sharp prickle of annoyance; she doesn’t need Flora, but she pushes that out of her mind. The fire invites her to get closer, beckoning with its little flames. And she does.

When a gust of wind blows, Felicia is close enough to the fire to feel the heat, and it leaves her gasping.

The heat presses against her face, cracks her lips and tears her eyes, and it’s like it rips her apart, really; she feels sparks flutter on her face, land on her soft skin and then _burn_ , shrivel up and die.

Felicia can’t scream; the dryness suffocates her.

And then there is a small, chubby hand on her back, and when she whirls around Flora’s eyes are on her. “What are you doing?” she screeches, her voice taking on a tone eerily similar to their father’s. That’s Flora, always sounding older than she actually is. “Felicia, you got so close! You know we’re not supposed to be that close to the fire! I swear it was almost touching you!”  
  
Felicia tries to say, _I know, I’m sorry_ , but then Clear is there and he’s rubbing at her cheeks, the familiar coolness spreading across her skin, smearing the sparks off her face. “Felicia,” he says calmly, “I don’t want you going near fire again. You too, Flora.”

Felicia nods. “Okay, Father,” she agrees, and Flora sniffs in agreement, throwing Felicia a dirty look that means _gods, I’m glad you’re okay._

Felicia touches her face again. Though ice runs through her veins again, she can still feel the hot sensation under her skin.

__

When Felicia and Flora are older, somewhat more capable, they are given away to the Kingdom of Nohr as maids. It’s different, somehow; Flora screams and cries and bangs against the carriage, pleading with Clear to not send them away, while Felicia is the one huddled in the corner, silent for once in her life. She does wonder why her father, after all, sent her and Flora of all people, his own _daughters_ , but it hurts too much to think about it. She ignores it.

They meet a boy named Jakob, with grey hair tied in a ponytail and a look of revulsion mixed in his eyes when he studies the ragtag girls, Felicia’s hair falling from a messy ponytail and Flora’s tear-streaked face. He talks to them cordially, though, and leads them into a fort.

“This is Lady Corrin,” he says, and his voice drips with devotion and loyalty; the girl sitting on the floor of the fort smiles dryly at them. Her gaze sweeps over Flora’s disheveled appearance and Felicia’s tight expression.

“New girls,” she comments, sitting up straight. “I guess you’re serving me? Well, Gunter did say you two would serve the castle in general. I’m one of the Nohrian siblings. _Don’t_ look at me like that,” she adds with a sharper tone, “I don’t bite.”

Felicia’s cheeks flush; she glances at her feet, and then at Flora, who keeps her gaze level with Corrin’s. “Okay,” she says, in her calm mannerisms, and a flood relief rushes through Felicia. This is the Flora she knows. “We will serve you. But for future reference, try to keep us away from fire. Seeing that we’re from the Ice Tribe, you should expect that doesn’t work well.”

Corrin tilts her head to the side, and a giggle bubbles from her mouth. “I like _you_ ,” she says. “Don’t worry, I don’t breathe fire, I’m not some weird _dragon_ or anything. You’ll be fine.”

Oh, how those last words are so wrong. Felicia reaches for Flora’s hand and squeezes tightly, trying to hold onto something that at least seems familiar to her.

When Flora squeezes back, a subtle sign of vulnerability, Felicia doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or frightened.

__

Felicia is a shit maid.

It’s the truth; she drops plates and trips, her face hitting the jagged ground or the soft carpet, and whatever she holds crashes to the ground. It stains the carpet or it shatters in a million pieces and her face grows bright red, rubbing her eyes and trying hard not to cry. She screws up a lot.

Jakob and Flora are always there when it happens; Jakob just shakes his head and though his mouth is closed, Felicia knows he wants to call her absolutely _pathetic._ Flora swoops to the ground and helps clean up the discarded pieces, whispering in Felicia’s ear “It’s okay, we all make mistakes,” before rushing away in a series of swirls towards the trash. If Felicia is close enough to Corrin, the princess just watches with a bemused expression, but when Felicia looks at her she smiles, kind of comfortingly. It’s—nice, she supposes.

The thing is, she wouldn’t drop so many things if she wasn’t on kitchen duty _most of the time_. Because in the kitchen, there are fires, the flames licking the bottom of the pan so she can heat up meat or any other type of food. There is fire in the kitchen and it frightens her; the heat of it has left marks on her and she doesn’t want to get close to a fire ever again. Neither does Flora.

One time, she’s cleaning up in the kitchen, and there’s an open flame nearby, which should send off a lot of warning signals, but honestly, Felicia’s tired and she’s not thinking straight. Most days she isn’t, if she’s being honest. She’s distracted by a lot of things, like the complexity of the castle and its family and why Lady Corrin is kept in a fort away from everyone and why Flora always shakes her head and never smiles anymore. There are lot of things that seep into Felicia’s thoughts, but this specific time she doesn’t know what she’s focusing on.

Whatever the case is, Felicia doesn’t notice that her hand is _this close_ to the fire until red welts cover her hand and it feels like her skin is melting.

Felicia drops the pan she’s holding and shrieks, loud and clear, waving her hand up and down. There is no fire on her hand but she can feel the fire’s bite on it, rapidly spreading underneath her skin and it hurts, it fucking _hurts_ , and she can’t think, can’t feel anything except _heat_ —

Flora bangs into the kitchen, out of breath and staring at her sister. “Are you okay?” she shouts, her voice too loud and too high in the room. “What’s wrong?”

Her eyes fasten on Felicia’s hand, and then her eyes flicker to the open flame nearby. She processes this, and then her hand clamps around Felicia’s wrist, pulling her closer, and then she lays her hand across Felicia’s. A thin layer of ice frosts on her palm, and while the pain doesn’t disappear entirely, it’s enough to make Felicia be able to calm down and take wispy breaths.

“We’ll find a towel,” Flora promises, the tips of her fingers pressing lightly in Felicia’s burn. “We’ll find a towel and put water on it and everything will be fine. Don’t cry, it’s just a burn.”

Jakob is outside of the kitchen when Flora leads Felicia out; he studies them with his mouth pursed and then says, “You were screaming that loud because of a burn?”

“It really hurts,” Felicia wails, and then flinches when another shot of heat shoots through her veins. Flora squeezes her good hand and adds, “We’re from the Ice Tribe. It hurts more. And could you please be endearing and go get Felicia a towel?”  
  
Jakob obeys, bowing out gracefully. Felicia glances at her hand rubs it wearily—all that for a burn, gods. She can see why Jakob looked at her funny.

Beside her, Flora draws in a sharp breath. “He doesn’t know,” she says, as if the words are supposed to be comforting. “It’s not anything to cry about, Felicia, don’t be ashamed. It hurts even more for us. So,” she adds, with a little smile playing on her lips, “try not to set anything on fire, okay?”

It’s not funny, and ordinarily Felicia would’ve taken it as an insult. But her mind isn’t right tonight, so she just nods and forces a smile and leans her head against her sister’s shoulder, drowsy.

Before she drifts off, she thinks she feels the squeeze of her sister’s palm again, and another layer of ice spreading under her skin.

__

Felicia doesn’t grow to become a _great_ maid, but she grows into the castle. Corrin, on the other hand, shapes up to be a wonderful young lady, although her bitter tongue till remains.

King Garon decides that his daughter, who he has stored away in a fort, is old enough to carry out a few missions. Felicia and Flora are ordered to stay behind; Jakob and Gunter leave.

“Do you think they’ll be okay?” Felicia asks, watching as the carriage draws away, trotting towards the spiral of dark clouds.

Flora replies, “I’m sure they will be,” but her eyes are dark and her expression doesn’t look as hearty as she sounds, and Felicia wonders what she could be possibly thinking about.

Jakob arrives back at the castle about a day later, maybe, she doesn’t know—Nohr is always dark and gloomy, it’s hard to tell—but his hair is mussed, his breathing is short and there is a wild look of panic on his face. He never looks panicked, he’s always so calm and composed, so this tips Felicia off something is wrong. “Gunter fell down the Invisible Chasm, and Lady Corrin is missing!” he practically shouts, before grabbing a bunch of extra heals and running off.

“Oh, _no_ ,” Flora says, her eyes low, her mouth open. Felicia trembles.

“Where do you think she is?” She asks to make sure that Flora is okay. She’s held onto this stupid belief that Flora knows everything; Flora can make this okay, like she did with the burn on her hand. Flora will know what to do.

“I don’t know,” she says, sort of shakily. “It’s a big world out there.” She won’t meet Felicia’s eyes.

__

The best thing to do is just wait at the castle, which is absolute _bullshit_ , but Felicia obeys because that’s all she’s good at. She files away plates and dusts the floor and cooks food that she ends up burning, but she doesn’t really care as she watches the food slowly turn black. Her thoughts are mostly on Corrin and where she is and if she’s hurt, what if she’s hurt? She pushes that out of her mind along with Gunter, because she doesn’t like to think about Gunter very much, about how he fell. He’s probably dead (her heart squeezes; old and brave Gunter, _dead_ at the bottom of a chasm), but she doesn’t know for sure.

It _hurts_ not knowing. Felicia sticks closer to Flora, taking comfort in her only sense of family left. She thinks of Corrin, wandering in unfamiliar fields and Gunter, motionless on the ground and Jakob, combing through territory screaming Corrin’s name. Funny that she saw them alive, almost a few days ago. It’s kind of unreal.

She is cleaning the windows when the door bursts open and the Nohrian royals come spilling in, expressions alike. They all look angry and upset, and Felicia knows she probably shouldn’t ask, but she’s curious and she can’t help it. “What’s wrong? Does it have to do with…Corrin?”

Xander ignores her; this is expected, he’s the high prince and he doesn’t have time to answer a _maid’s_ question. Camilla brushes past, eyes locked on particularly nothing, and Elise won’t look at her, ducking her head down. It’s surprisingly Leo who tells her what’s happened, but he looks disgruntled and his tone is menacing.

“Corrin went to Hoshido,” he says icily, tone biting and forced. “She’s dead to me.”

Felicia replays the words in her head; _Corrin went to Hoshido._ She’s well aware of the prospering country over, the bitter rival of Nohr. Somehow—the words don’t process in her head.

“What about Jakob?”

Flora’s voice peeps out of nowhere, frightened but curious; her face is composed but her hand is twitching. Leo scowls at her and turns away.

“We’ve never had a butler named Jakob.” He tosses it over his shoulder, the words spitting. Flora’s eyes widen, and she drops the cloth she’s holding. Felicia takes in her expression; she looks a little scared, like—she doesn’t know what to do now.

“Okay,” Felicia says, forcing her voice to sound calm. She tries to rationalize, think like Flora. “Okay—we can just go after her. Nobody will notice, I mean, we just served under Lady Corrin and-”

“Now we’re just regular maids?” Flora hisses, the words like poison pouring out of her mouth. Felicia stops, meets her sister’s gaze. There is fire in her sister’s eyes; she didn’t think fire could burn in her sight but it apparently can. “I want to go _home_ , Felicia. Corrin isn’t here, and our job is done. I want to _leave_.”

“But Corrin isn’t dead!” Felicia retorts back, feeling something hot creeping up her neck. “And our duty is to serve her—”

“Look at it logically, Felicia!” Flora interrupts. “She’s not a Nohrian princess anymore. And now that she’s gone, and so is everyone else—is there any reason to even stay?” The flame in her eyes spark higher.

Felicia wants to say, _there is, I’m here, I’m here for you we can be a family and go find Corrin,_ but she can’t find it in her to say it. It’s a new, dangerous look on Flora’s face, and Felicia doesn’t want to play with the fire that Flora has unintentionally created.

“I’m going,” she says, and Flora draws in a sharp breath; she wasn’t expecting that. Felicia didn’t, either, until the words are out in the open. “I’m going to find Corrin and Jakob and—and I’m not coming back. But please, come with me, Flora. Please.”

Her sister scavenges Felicia’s pleading face, and her lips part. For a moment, Felicia thinks that Flora will go with her, but then Flora is turning around and bending down to pick up her cloth.

“Go find them, then,” she says, and her voice is heavy. “And try not to die.”

__ 

It’s not like Felicia has great survival instincts, but she can do well on her own, surprisingly. She is able to escape far from Nohr’s castle and the main city without any guards chasing after her, and reaches the tangled outskirts of Nohr, right between Hoshido and Nohr. She wonders if anyone would notice if she ran, given that she is a lowly maid; but then her heart reminds her, _your sister will always notice_ , and her chest hurts.

She brought no weapons with her. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing ever, considering how hungry she is, but Felicia preservers, pushes through grassy lands and villages. She knows that a human can’t go without food and water for a long time, but some of those villagers are friendly to her, bid her farewell with some nourishment. They don’t seem to recognize her Nohrian attire. Maybe they don’t care, since she is just a maid, which is very apparent in how she dresses.

Felicia keeps walking until her feet are sore and her fists are clenched close to her chest. Her thoughts turn to Flora, and she wonders if her twin has ever thought about her since she left. Hopefully. Probably. She wishes.

When she stops to rest at a mountain peak, she curls up inside an old fort. It’s freezing, but it doesn’t matter to Felicia; she just pulls her knees closer to her body and rests her head against the cold cobblestone. She remembers the fire dancing in Flora’s eyes, the anger in her tone when she snapped at Felicia that nobody is there for them. She thinks, _you’re wrong, I’m finding people,_ but then the wind greets her and it reminds her how utterly alone she is.

The heat from Flora’s anger warms her insides, probably not in a good way, but Felicia falls asleep anyways, so she doesn’t dwell on it. Tomorrow, she will find Corrin and prove her sister wrong, and extinguish the flame that bothers her so much.

__

She stumbles into a castle unarmed and in awe.

Corrin stands in front of the gates with a man who has slicked red hair and a missing eye; they wear equal masks of surprise. Felicia smiles nervously, chains her fingers behind her back.

“Lady Corrin!” she cheers. “I found you! Ever since I found out what happened, I just had to go and find you—and you’re here! You do recognize me, um, right?”

Corrin blinks, slowly. The man next to her scowls, brandishes a shuriken in his hands. It smokes at the corners, and Felicia realizes— _it’s on fire._ Her stomach churns, just a bit.

But then Corrin breathes, and a smile crosses her face. “Oh, Felicia,” she sighs, and her arms are encircling Felicia. “Can’t just resist staying out of trouble, huh? I’m glad you’re here, though.” She doesn’t ask about Flora; Felicia is glad.

The man grunts. “Can she even fight?” he asks, flipping the shuriken in his hands. Fire spurts from the edges, orange and hot.

Corrin rolls her eyes. “Jeez, Saizo, you don’t have to be such an _ass_ about it.” She winks at Felicia, and then adds, “But yes, Felicia is quite good with throwing daggers around. Too bad we don’t have any, although I think a shuriken will do. Saizo, give her that flame shuriken.”

Okay, so Corrin _doesn’t_ seem to remember. Her heartbeat leaps to her throat, and she approaches Saizo wearily, taking the shuriken between her fingers. The metal is cool against her skin, slipped between her fingers, and it feels a little awkward, but has the right feel like daggers.

“Perfect,” Corrin declares, clapping her hands together. “It works.” Her arm snakes around Felicia’s, and she gives her a tight squeeze before running off. Felicia stands there, holding the shuriken firmly, well aware of Saizo’s watchful eye. He studies her quietly, and Felicia is about to brush past him when he speaks.

“You’re treating that thing as though it’s going to explode.”

Felicia stuffs the shuriken in her pocket. It’s warm in her pocket, the sharp edges digging into the cloth. “I don’t think it will,” she says.

Saizo rolls his eye at her, and then crosses his arms. “How do you know Corrin?” his voice is rough, like he’s reluctant to speak, but does so anyways.

Felicia says, “I used to work under her,” and then brushes her bangs nervously. Saizo studies her, takes in her manner and her appearance. Felicia waits for him to say something, but he never does—he turns twice on the spot and then he’s gone. Poof.

__ 

Corrin’s mission is kind of confusing to Felicia, since she just showed up. But what she knows is that they are walking to some destination when her little brother falls ill—increasingly ill, and even if Felicia raised a staff on him it wouldn’t heal him. For this reason, they detour back into Nohr to get a precious herb.

When they sneak into the building, it’s too quiet and too big. Felicia can hear her heart pounding; it’s loud and it echoes in her chest, _thump, thump, thump_. There is something wrong—something really wrong—but she doesn’t know what it is.

There is a noise in the back of the room, and when Felicia whirls around she is staring into her own eyes.

Felicia would scream, but she can’t find her voice. Shockingly, Corrin gets over it first; mouth open, she cries, “Flora?”

Flora’s eyes dart towards Felicia’s. Her eyes are wide, mouth set in a line; her whole expression screams _What are you doing here,_ but she’s smart enough not to ask. She leads them away from the main building, into a more secluded section.

“Why are you here?” Felicia blurts out, and Flora shoots her a glance.

“I’m fine,” she assures, which wasn’t what Felicia asked, but it calms her anyways. Flora always knows what she’s really thinking, even if she can’t put it in words. “I’m fine, I got away from Garon, I work here now, but—why are _you_ here?”

Corrin steps in, and they talk briefly before Flora confirms yes, she can snatch the medicine for the prince. Her eyes never leave Felicia’s face, though, and she twitches a little bit. Felicia doesn’t think anything of it, though—of course Flora would be nervous, they’re about to steal from where she works now. She leads them all towards a medicine cabinet, tossing a nervous look over her shoulder, and Felicia wants to comfort her but Flora quickens her pace whenever someone catches up to her.

They are almost to the room when Nohr’s tactician appears. Felicia has never seen him up close, but he terrifies her; oily black hair streaming down his shoulders, red mouth and white teeth, and most importantly, a fire tome clutched in his spindly hands. He doesn’t seem to notice Felicia, however; his eyes are reserved only for Flora.

Flora, for her part, remains defiant and calm. “You can’t destroy this place, Iago,” she says coolly. “This is a part of Nohr.”

“King Garon doesn’t mind,” Iago sneers, his mouth still curled in a smile. “I can do anything I want, like _this_.”

He opens his tome and suddenly there is fire in the air, hovering in the air; it crackles in front of them before lunging at Flora.  
It hits her square in the chest, and Flora yells, her knees scraping the ground, head bent low. “ _Go_ ,” she hisses between clenched teeth, and she says Corrin’s name but her eyes are on Felicia. Another spurt of fire volleys towards her, and then she falls on her side and doesn’t move, save for the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

Something snaps inside of Felicia, like a bone. _Flora_ erupts from her mouth like a primal roar, a high shriek that doesn’t sound human, but Felicia doesn’t care because _he hurt her! He hurt Flora!_ She’s never wanted to kill anyone before, but her hands itch now to wrap her arms around Iago’s throat and _squeeze_.

She picks up the flame shuriken. While it still terrifies her, it’s the only weapon she’s got. She’s about to run towards Iago when there is a tap on her shoulder, and when Felicia whirls around she sees Saizo.

“Is she your sister?” he asks quietly, jerking his head back down the hall, where Flora lies. When Felicia nods, she sees a weird spasm twitch across his face, before he nods and turns on his foot.

Whatever. Felicia twists away and stalks off, one hand curled into a fist and the other clutched around the flame shuriken.

__

A diviner with long, purple hair kills Iago, except she didn’t, exactly. When Corrin corners him the tactician reveals he’s an illusion and then disappears, a clean escape.

Flora wakes up moments after this, hands pressed against the concrete. “What happened to Iago?” she asks Felicia, and when Felicia looks at her clothes she sees fire scorches still on the apron.  
  
Iago may have been illusion this time, but he left burns that are pretty damn real.

“It’s okay,” Felicia reassures her, as the royals draw closer. “He’s gone.” For a moment, she thinks she sees panic seize Flora’s expression before her face smoothens out.

“Okay,” she says calmly, which is weird to Felicia but she doesn’t think much of it. “That’s good. Um…is that boy…”

But then Corrin heads over and so do her siblings, and they converse before the sick one—Takumi, that’s his name—collapses. Flora goes bug-eyed and springs to her feet, and races to get an herb for him with the youngest girl trailing after her. Felicia watches them go, and is about to follow when Corrin says quietly, “Iago is a little _shit_ , but I wonder…”

Felicia snaps her head around to look at her. “What?”

Corrin holds her gaze for a moment, and then ducks her head down, mouth creased in a frown. “Nothing,” she says, coiling a strand of blonde hair around her finger. “Ignore me.” She flashes a sly smile at Felicia, but it’s clearly fake; but before Felicia can ask Corrin is looping an arm around Takumi and chasing after her siblings.

__

Flora gets the herb in time and they pry it into Takumi’s mouth, force his jaws open to swallow it. He sleeps fitfully, but the healer relaxes, so Felicia does too. Flora keeps her eyes fixated on Takumi’s bed, and doesn’t say anything. And then she draws herself to full height and asks Corrin were they’re headed next, and when Corrin shrugs, offers to take them to the Ice Tribe. Felicia’s heart leaps and she nods at Corrin excitedly. “Please, please!” she begs, clasping her hands together; Corrin stares at her before burst into laughter and agreeing.

They walk through mountains of snow, Felicia practically skipping next to Flora. “Oh, sister, I’m so happy!” she squeals, when Flora glances at her warily. “They’ll be able to see how wonderful everyone is. Aren’t you excited, Flora?”

Her sister chews her lip; all of her movements are stiff and her mouth is turned down, a somewhat sad look on her face. “Yeah, real excited,” she says distractedly.

Felicia frowns, but thinks nothing of it. Sometimes Flora can get into moods. Case in point, when they near the village and Flora starts to explain about it, but Felicia cuts in excitedly. Flora rolls her eyes at her and says rather nastily, “Are you trying to one-up me, _sister_?”

Felicia flushes, feels her eyes widen in shock. “No, no!” she apologizes hastily. “I’m just—I’m really excited. And besides,” she adds heatedly, “I’ve always looked up to you—why would I one-up you?”

“Hm.” Flora hesitates, and then flashes her a familiar smile that makes Felicia’s tension dissolve. “Thanks for the compliment.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Felicia mutters, but she smiles giddily again and wraps her hand around Flora’s arm.

__

And then Flora suddenly throws a dagger into their backs and trying to kill Corrin, which screams levels of insanity to Felicia.

“Sister?” Her voice is too scared, too high. “What are you-”

Her sister’s voice is monotonous when she replies. “I have to kill you now. I can’t let you pass.” But her eyes are on Corrin, not Felicia, and the princess’s eyes are flashing with rage.

“Oh, come _off_ it,” she snarls, and Felicia shuts her eyes. “This isn’t you.”

“You don’t know me.” When Felicia reopens her eyes, Flora is tossing a silver dagger in her hands. Then she zeroes in on Felicia. “Felicia…come with me. I don’t want to hurt you, and King Garon will understand.”

A spy. She still works for King Garon, it was all a lie. Felicia twists the skin on her arm, but all it does is leave a red welt. “Are you going to just turn on Lady Corrin?” she asks, and Flora’s eyes widen. “It was our job to stay with her!”  
  
“Fine!” Flora closes her eyes and mumbles something Felicia can’t hear, but her eyes are cold when she opens them again. “I’m going to kill all of you.”

And they fight. Corrin tasks Felicia to be paired with Jakob; he says nothing for once, which is the only thing that really comforts her. And it really _hurts_ , because she at least knows everyone who comes swarming out of villages, holding arrows or bows or swords, and they look at her with the same look in their eyes. They snarl things that are drowned out in the wind; Felicia is secretly glad, because she doesn’t want to hear how she is a traitor to her own people. She supposes she is, as she watches the sharp end of her shuriken land with a dull thud; this doesn’t make her feel better, watching her people yank out the dagger and pressing their hands against the wound.

(She wonders if Clear is out here, watching his daughters fight against each other. She doesn’t see him; maybe he doesn’t _care_?)

Felicia treks all the way to Flora, who is standing in front of the main village. She stands perfect and poised, and the silver dagger gleams even with no sunlight.

“Sister!” Felicia cries, and Flora’s head snaps up. Her eyes widen, and then narrow.

“You’re going to fight me?” she snarls. “ _You_ have it in you, to take on your sister?”

Felicia shakes her head. “Flora, stop this!” she pleads. “You can come with us, and it’ll be fine! Just _stop_!”

Flora hesitates for a moment, the handle of the dagger awkward in her fingers; for a moment, Felicia thinks she’s won her, but then Flora snaps, “I have to kill you now,” and hurls the dagger towards Felicia’s heart.

Jakob blocks it; he’s shouting, “Are you okay, why did you let her do that?” but Felicia isn’t listening, Felicia is only focused on the smooth tips of a shuriken that leaves her fingers and flies towards Flora.

She swallows a sob when it breaks the skin.

__

Corrin knocks Flora off her feet and takes away the dagger, and then lends her hand out to her to pull her up. Flora hesitates, drawing her fingers close, before accepting Corrin’s hand and jumping up.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes abruptly; Felicia startles at this, because all she’s heard Flora repeat is _I have to kill you, I have to kill you._ It was a mantra and she had stupidly thought it was the only thing Flora could say now.

Flora tells her story; it’s a bad story and it reeks of betrayal and chaos and she’s crying. Her hands shake and her voice trembles, but then suddenly it takes on a sharp note when she says, “I deserve to die.”

Felicia’s heart skips a beat, and before she can stop herself Flora’s name comes tumbling out of her lips. Her sister glances at her, and says harshly, “Get back!”

And then suddenly there is orange on her sister’s hands and it’s spreading up her skirt and her chest and—Flora is on fire, she’s _on fucking fire._ The fire crawls up her thighs and sings her hair and it looks so _painful_ , the way the flames lick at her. Felicia drops to her knees and scuffs at the snow, trying to put it out, but it doesn’t _work_.

Flora, for her part, remains calm and composed, which is absolutely nuts; she’s probably hurting so much right now, Felicia can practically feel the crawl of fire on her skin. But Flora remains morose and calm, just like she always is, as her gaze sweeps over her sister, Corrin, and Jakob. “Don’t cry,” she says quietly. “This is what I deserve.”

The fire swallows her body. Flora sways, once, and whispers something that Felicia can’t hear before her body hits the ground. The fire still burns on her hungrily.

Felicia whirls around and catches Jakob’s eye; she heads over to him and hands him the flame shuriken. The metal, usually rather cool, is hot in her hands all of a sudden and bile rises in her throat.

Jakob looks revolted when he looks at the shuriken. “What-”

“Take it,” Felicia interrupts, her voice catching. She slowly backs away, watching the smoke around the shuriken. “I can’t—I can’t use it anymore.” And then, before she can cry or throw up, she runs away.

__ 

She has no sense of direction and she doesn’t know where she’s going or how she got back to Corrin’s castle; all Felicia does is just find a wooden bench in an overlook and curl up in it. She waits for the tears to come, but they don’t; this is wrong, she should cry, but she can’t. Maybe she’s in shock or something.

But she feels hollow inside and it’s a bad feeling; it gnaws in her stomach and rises in her throat and Felicia swallows, tucking her head between her knees. She feels absolutely empty, and when she closes her eyes all she sees are flames playing in her eyelids.

“Ahem.”

Saizo stands before her awkwardly, his big, lumbering figure towering over her. Felicia moans, but Saizo doesn’t go away; he sits next to her and scratches the back of his neck. He’s flustered, Felicia realizes, and she would find it funny if not for the fact her _sister_ just _died_.

“Are you…okay?” he asks awkwardly, and Felicia lets out a laugh that doesn’t sound like her at all.

“I just watched my sister burn to death, what do you think?”

Saizo shrugs. “It was a pretty stupid question,” he admits. Silence lapses between them again, but Saizo scoots closer, which is not what Felicia was expecting.

“Why are you here?” Why do you care about me, she means; she was under the impression Saizo wasn’t fond of her or any Nohrians.

“Wanted to see how you were holding up.” Saizo’s response is cold and clear cut, so Felicia responds in an equal manner.

“Do you even get it? You’re a ninja, you _kill_ people for a living! She was just an enemy in your eyes, wasn’t she? You don’t care, you don’t know how I feel.” She would go on, but then a sob gets lodged in her throat and she swallows painfully. Saizo remains silent during this outburst, twiddling his thumbs together.

Then he says, “Actually, I kind of do,” and Felicia looks at him in surprise.  
  
“What, _you_ had a twin?”

He still wears the mask, but Felicia can see the draw of his eyebrows to tell he’s frowning. “His name was Kaze. He was…we weren’t very close. But he was a good man. Honorable and kind. Wish I…told him that sooner.” His tone is sour, but he’s not done speaking; Felicia can hear the draw of a breath, but she cuts him off.

“How’d he die?”

Saizo grunts. “He sacrificed himself. It was…what you would expect from him, I guess.” And then, as if an afterthought, he adds, “He died right before you showed up.”

Felicia’s eyes widen; she certainly hadn’t known that. She presses her palms together and slides close enough until their thighs are almost touching. “Do you…do you miss him?”

Saizo is silent, and then his next words are low and almost silent. “Well, yeah. Kaze was my brother. But I don’t have time to grieve; this is war, you know.”

And _then_ Felicia is crying. The tears well up in her eyes and then stream down her cheeks; her nose gets red and she can’t stop sobbing, even as she presses her hand to her mouth. Saizo’s eyebrows shoot up in a mild look of panic.

“Hey, what are you—stop crying,” he says awkwardly, but Felicia only cries harder, rocking back and forth and _hurting_ all over her body. He puts his hand on her shoulder somewhat awkwardly; the gesture is nice enough, and Felicia wipes her eyes and tries to stop the tears from falling. It doesn’t work, but slowly her body starts to feel more drained, exhausted with each tear.

“It’ll be all right,” she thinks she hears Saizo say, but it doesn’t really sound like him; the voice is warped, different but familiar to her ears; it strangely sounds like Flora.

She tries to say, _How so,_ but she’s already slipping into darkness and she doesn’t try to fight it.

__

In her dreams, Felicia is in Castle Krakenburg again and she’s not alone.

In her dreams, Flora is there and they are sitting side by side, at the foot of Corrin’s empty bed.

In her dreams, Flora is squeezing her hand and her head is tilted back.

In he dreams, Flora is laughing and she looks more beautiful than ever, no scorch marks on her body, just happiness etched on her face.

In her dreams, her sister is holding her and everything is okay.

__ 

She wakes up and her mouth is dry; she’s still curled up on the wooden bench, but there is light streaking the skies. Felicia wonders how long she’s slept. Her body feels sore, but she forces herself to sit up anyways.

Saizo is gone, but there is a thin, raggedy blanket draped over her shoulders, which is comforting, surprisingly. There is also an iron shuriken that wasn’t there last night, a few feet down the bench. Felicia picks it up and stuffs it in her pocket; it is heavy but cool, so different from the flame shuriken. Felicia breathes, and stands up to walk outside.

Today is a new day, she decides. Today she will fight in Corrin’s army and avenge what King Garon took from her. She’ll fight for Flora and fuel her sister’s power and it’ll be fine. Corrin will win, and Felicia will be fighting next to her.

When she steps out in the sunlight she expects the warmth of the rays to strike her, but what hits her first is a brush of frost against her cheek. It lingers for a second, but when Felicia presses her warm fingers against her face, it evaporates.


End file.
